It might be hope

My father is coming to Ferndale this weekend. In fact, in like 7 hours. This is big. I haven't seen him in 10 years and Megan has only met him at the wedding weekend festivities. This'll be the first time he meets our kids. I'm excited with a sense of anticipation.

It all began with a song. Last month, there was like a two week stretch where every morning I would wake up with the Sara Groves song, "It might be hope" in my head. (This actually happens a lot - I wake up with a song in my head almost every day. That song will usually frame my worship that morning and is a way that God speaks to me.) Every time I listened to the song I was really moved. Like the 10th time this happened I stopped to ask myself - why? The song describes a scene in which you walk into a room, look out the window and see something out there that inspires something in you, and you realize that what was just birthed in you was hope. I realized that, in my mind's eye, I was seeing something out of my "window" that was birthing hope in me. I'm pretty thick, but not that thick, so I asked myself (God?) the question, "what am I seeing out of my window?" And I realized right away that what I was seeing was my father coming up my walkway to my house. Voila!

It might be hope.